


Dance with the Devil

by kireteiru



Category: Bleach
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Kurosaki Ichigo, Complete, Demon Deals, Half-Demon Kazui, Hand Jobs, How Do I Tag, Knotting, M/M, Mpreg, Occult, Ritual Sex, Sex, Sex with Sentient Animals in Chapter 3???, Shiro's a weird demon IDK if that counts, Top Hollow Ichigo, alien dicks, demon transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2018-12-08 03:07:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11637660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kireteiru/pseuds/kireteiru
Summary: AU. After his parents sold him to a demon before he was born, Ichigo must pay the price to keep existing.





	1. Dance with the Devil

It felt like he’d barely finished one summoning before it was time to start preparing for the next. It was a pain to have to _personally_ gather more than a dozen super-specific ingredients from all over the world, like “moss growing on the north side of the third rock on the left past kilometer marker 17 on the B6 in Namibia.” Okay, maybe not  quite _that_ exact, but they were specific enough that he had to spend four months of the year traveling.

He was lucky he managed to get a job at the only legitimate occult shop in a hundred miles. While he was off gathering and curing his own ingredients, he could ship more back to Karakura and get paid, without worrying about whether or not his job would be there when he got back. Really, the only downside was –

“Kurosaki-saaaaaaaan~!”

-the shopkeeper. And, oh yeah, the Vasto Lorde-class demon he had to summon once a year.

“It’s good to see you, Kurosaki-san!” Urahara called cheerfully as the other witch stepped into the occult shop, the blond whipping out his ubiquitous fan and using it to hide his wide grin, “Your friends and family have been asking after you.”

‘Emphasis on the former more than the latter.’ Not that Ichigo blamed them. His friends didn’t know that demons were real, that once upon a time his parents had hunted them until his mother had gotten possessed by a demon that not even the Head Hunter could handle. That his father sold his firstborn to him in exchange for him leaving his wife, never expecting that the demon would cure Masaki’s barrenness to force them to uphold their end of the deal.

His friends didn’t know that that led to his parents being distant for most of his childhood, not wanting to grow too attached and then have him snatched away. That after they all left his seventeenth birthday party, his parents sat him down and told him the truth, giving him a year to say his goodbyes.

His friends didn’t know that the night he turned eighteen, the Vasto Lorde had come for him, marked him as his own with two red stripes starting near his ear and curving across his left cheek, merging into one and ending in a point under the tear duct of his left eye. His friends didn’t know that his continued existence in the world of the living was as tenuous as a spiderweb during monsoon season. One wrong move, one late summons…

(Okay, maybe he was a little bitter. And maybe he did blame his parents a little.)

(But only a little.)

“Sorry, Urahara-san,” Ichigo replied, toeing off his shoes and padding into the _shouten_ , “I had a hell of a time trying to get out of Vietnam. The weather was garbage the whole time I was there.”

“Oh dear. But you made it back safely. It didn’t affect the quality of the supplies, I trust?”

“No, not at all.” The younger witch headed back into the depths of the _shouten_ , aiming for his room.

It was pretty much exactly as he’d left it, although Ururu had probably been in to dust and store the supplies he sent back. Ichigo dropped his pack in a corner and laid down on his _futon_ , letting out a deep sigh. He’d spent the past forty-eight hours fighting through one airport after another to get home in time. It was nice to be able to take a moment to just breathe.

But as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t sleep until noon tomorrow. The witch heaved himself back to his feet while he could still muster the will, and shuffled towards the bathroom.

His purification bath had already been drawn, the nearly boiling hot water already perfumed with the necessary herbs and oils. He managed to call his thanks out to Urahara, and got a vague response before he started stripping.

Ordinarily Ichigo would have put on the _yukata_ hanging on the back of the door while the tub filled, but this time he went straight for the stool in the corner. Arrayed before it were four different buckets of four different woods, each perfumed with four different herbs and four different oils. Most people would have been put off by so much “death,”* but he had long since grown used to it. The witch sat down on the stool, hands palm down on his knees, back straight, and started his breathing exercises.

Then he started to bathe, dipping his wash cloth into the first bucket and starting to scrub away the dirt and grime of the day. When he finished, he emptied the bucket over his head, shook his hair out of his eyes, and went to soak in the tub. He did it three more times with the three remaining buckets, then rinsed himself off and donned the white _yukata_.

The _shouten_ was empty by the time he emerged. Urahara and Tsukabishi had been there the first time he’d summoned the demon, stayed close by for a few times after that, but now they gave him his privacy. Ichigo was grateful for that; he didn’t like knowing his employers could hear how much he enjoyed having sex with a demon.

The summoning chamber was already prepared, too, the circle laid out in binding chalk nearly filling the room, herbs laid out, braziers unlit. He went around and lit them with a pack of special matches Urahara left. Even before the scent of the aromatic woods filled the chamber, the air grew thick and heavy, and Ichigo’s cock started to stir.

 _He_ was near, just outside the bounds of the material world, waiting for the summoning so he could push through and claim his prize.

Ichigo hurriedly shrugged off the _yukata_ and left it in a corner outside the edge of the circle. He was careful not to smudge even the tiniest character despite his eagerness, and knelt in the open space at the heart of the circle. With the ceremonial knife laid there, he cut a finger and squeezed it to get the necessary number of drops into the bowl with the ingredients he’d spent so much time gathering, then stroked his cock a few times with his uninjured hand to add his precum to the mix. Then he lit another match and dropped it in.

The circle flared with ruddy light, and Ichigo felt something akin to a rock being dropped into a pond, as if experienced from below the surface. All his senses skewed and swam, then settled.

He was no longer alone.

A taloned hand, whiter than snow, was making short strokes over his chest, the razor-sharp tips just barely teasing his skin. Warm, damp breaths ghosted over the back of his neck. He’d appeared in his more human form this time; Ichigo could tell based on the fabric separating his back from the demon’s chest.

**“Happy birthday, Strawberry.”**

No matter how many times he’d heard it before, the demon’s echoey voice always sounded strange, and despite the hated nickname, the witch leaned back against him. “Shiro,” he groaned as the demon’s other hand snaked between his legs to tug at his cock.

The demon’s horned mask cracked open, letting his long, pointed tongue snake out and lick a swipe up the side of the mortal’s neck, catching the remnants of his bath and the beginnings of sweat. The next thing Ichigo knew, he was on his back on the futon set off to one side in the center of the circle.

The demon loomed above him, the light from the braziers flickering eerily over his black mask, turning all of him dark amber in the flickering light. Shiro grasped his injured hand, stuck his cut finger between the parted teeth of his mask, his long tongue licking away the blood and a small infusion of power sealing the self-inflicted slice. Then he released the human’s wrist to slide his hand down the other’s arm, then over his chest to his heart. **“This is mine, isn’t it?”**

Ichigo moaned in response, the slightest brush of the demon’s power setting him alight.

**_“Isn’t_ it?”**

“Yes – yes, yours,” he panted, arching into the demon’s touch.

 **“That’s right, good boy.”** The demon dragged his talons down the other male’s chest _just_ hard enough to raise red lines without breaking even the tiniest patch of skin. Ichigo hissed quietly, then tugged on the demon’s clothes. Shiro barked out a laugh. His _hakama_ and modified _kosode_ were gone in the blink of an eye, leaving him as naked as Ichigo, save for his horned mask.

The witch groaned aloud when the demon lowered himself enough for the erections to brush, making the other grin behind his mask. **“My, my, sounds like ya want somethin’, Strawberry.”**

“You know,” Ichigo gritted out, fighting to form thoughts through the unnatural pleasure, “it really kills the mood when you call me that.” He knew the futility of trying to move the demon when he didn’t want to be moved, so he moved himself instead, wrapping his legs around the other’s waist and lifting his hips to grind them closer together. Both of them moaned that time.

 **“Mmm… wanna get right to the good part, huh?”** His gold-on-black eyes sparkled with mirth. **“All right. It’s been a while, so I s’pose I can oblige you.”** He trailed a talon down the witch’s chest, over his muscled belly ( _and it’d be all too easy to push through and_ gut), teasing over his cock, then dipping down between his legs to just barely press into his hole.

Ichigo writhed as the demon’s power swept into him, leaving him empty and slick – but not stretched. Shiro liked to do that himself. He pushed his fingers one by one into the witch, stretching him open, but not fully. The mortal like a little bit of burn with his pleasure.

The demon thrust sharply into him, making Ichigo scream and arch under him. Shiro heaved the witch’s legs up onto his shoulders, then continued pounding into him, sharp jabs of his hips aiming for the other’s prostate. Ichigo screamed again, then kept screaming, clawing at the demon’s back with one hand and fisting his cock with the other. “SHIRO! Shiro, _please!_ ”

 **“Such a sweet berry,”** Shiro hummed, still sounding incredibly put-together. He batted Ichigo’s hand away, then took over stroking his dick, adding a touch of his power to make the witch scream louder. His voice gave out before he did, but three strokes later he came so hard he passed out.

* * *

Ichigo woke on his side, his back to Shiro’s chest. The demon was still knotted with him so he hadn’t been out long, just long enough to miss Shiro coming. He shivered a little as a fresh spurt painted his insides with nearly boiling heat.

 **“Welcome back to the land a’ the living, Ichi,”** Shiro hummed behind him, running a proprietary hand down his side, **“Did ya have a nice nap?”**

The witch clenched around him in response, eliciting a groan.

 **“Oh, is that how it’s gonna be?”** Shiro growled. Quick as a flash, he rolled so that Ichigo was on his stomach under him, then ground his hips down.

Then it was Ichigo’s turn to groan, hands fisting the _futon_ ’s sheets.

* * *

The witch didn’t know how many times they fucked that night, only that when it neared dawn, Shiro finally pulled out of him, and a deluge of sticky black seed spilled out after his cock. The demon grinned and brushed a talon around the rim of the human’s loosened hole. He stirred fitfully on the _futon_ , mostly out of it.

Shiro turned the human’s head, and pressed the teeth of his mask against Ichigo’s lips in a parody of a lover’s kiss. **“See ya next year, Ichigo,”** he chuckled, then vanished as the sun peeked over the horizon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *For those who might not have known, in both Japanese and Chinese, one way of pronouncing "four" is "shi", which is a homophone for "death."


	2. Evil Angel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when this was a oneshot? Yeah, me too. Also vague warnings for semi-implied off-screen sort-of-bestiality with sentient demons??? IDK how to tag for that.

It happened so fast.

One second he was walking his sisters home from school, telling them about his latest globe-trotting adventures, and the next – the next –

Ichigo coughed, choked on the blood filling his lungs, barely managed to roll his head to one side to let it flow out of his mouth. But that forced him to look, forced him to see –

Karin. Yuzu. Both his sisters were limp and twisted on the sidewalk, stained with blood spilling from their broken bodies, eyes empty. If he hadn’t been crying before, he was now, gasping for breath and sobbing all in one. He managed to pant out their names, but he could barely hear his own voice over the ringing in his ears. Then, “Shiro!” Fuck, his arms were broken; if he could just reach the stripes for the emergency summon…!

“Kurosaki-san!”

“Urahara-san,” he gasped as the shopkeeper sprinted over with Tessai on his heels, Yoruichi in her cat form jumping down from the rooftop. “Urahara – Karin, Yuzu –“

The other witch took one look at them and shook his head, eyes sad. “They’re already gone, Kurosaki-san.”

Tessai had begun trying to stabilize the young witch with healing magic, but Ichigo shook his head. “Shiro…”

That made all of them pause. “You really think he’ll help?”

“’Cause it’s me… yeah…”

“…tell us what to do.”

At Ichigo’s direction, Urahara dipped the younger witch’s fingers in the pool of blood spreading under him, then swiped them across the red stripes on his cheek. They immediately started glowing gold and heating up. “Back!” Ichigo choked out, and the three other witches scrambled away.

Not a second too soon. There was an explosive thud that vibrated in their chests, like being far too close to a launching mortar, and all the windows in a three-block radius shattered. People screamed and threw up their arms to shield themselves as the razor-sharp glass rained down on them.

In the midst of all the chaos, the Vasto Lorde appeared, stark white in the light of the sun. Though only the witches could see him, the other humans still felt his presence and shied away instinctively, avoiding the predator that had materialized among them. He took everything in in a single sweep of gold-on-black eyes, then met Ichigo’s gaze. “Shiro,” the mortal whispered, reaching for his sisters, “Shiro, _please…_ ”

 **“What will you give me, Ichigo?”** the demon asked, sinking to one knee next to the witch, uncaring of the blood that started to soak into his _hakama_ , **“This ain’t gonna come cheap. What will you give me?”**

_“Anything!”_

**“And if I wanted to take you with me? Right now?”** His eyes dropped to half-mast.

“Then _take me!_ Just…” Fresh tears spilled out, fast and hard. _“…please…”_

Shiro lifted his gaze to the corpses of the two girls. **“Mm… such _devotion._ ”** He trailed his claws over the still-glowing stripes on Ichigo’s cheek. **“I hope I receive a little of that someday.”** He snapped his fingers.

And then they were all standing on a busy street. The car that had hit Ichigo and his sisters was gone, all the damage repaired. All the windows were intact again, and people were walking around their group as if nothing had happened, still shying away from the demon but focusing on their phones or their friends or their lunch. And Karin and Yuzu…

“Ichi-nii, what-” Yuzu began, but then Ichigo was squeezing them both in a fierce hug. All three of them were no longer injured, but the eldest didn’t care about himself.

 **“Take them home,”** Shiro said next to his ear, **“and then you’re coming with me. Not forever – not _yet_ – but definitely for a while.”**

Ichigo nodded in understanding. The demon crouched, then leaped and disappeared over the rooftops.

Karin _saw._ “What was-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Ichigo said quickly, making her frown suspiciously, “Let’s get home.” As the girls turned to resume walking, he looked back at the other witches.

Apparently nominated as spokesperson, Urahara stepped forward. “Is he…?”

“I’m gonna be out for a while, but he said ‘not forever.’ Not yet, at least.”

The shopkeeper hummed, his eyes hidden in the shadow of his hat. “Come see us when you get back. We’ll check you over.”

Ichigo nodded, and jogged after his sisters.

* * *

The rest of the day went by worry-free. Karin and Yuzu were understandably unhappy that he had to leave again so soon after he got back, but they also understood that his “job” could call him away at a moment’s notice. Masaki, Yuzu, and Karin cooked a “farewell” dinner while Isshin and Ichigo talked quietly in the clinic, the hunder warning the witch to be _very_ careful, regardless of where Shiro took him, be it somewhere on Earth or… _somewhere else_ entirely.

After dinner, Ichigo helped his sisters with their homework, still waiting for the subtle tug, the muted burn of his mark to tell him that Shiro was calling, but it didn’t come. The twins bathed and settled in for the night, and though they had long since reached the age where they were “too old,” they still demanded that the witch read them a bedtime story. He did so with enthusiasm, then tucked them both in with a good-night kiss and turned off the light.

His parents were waiting for him downstairs. Masaki was the first to move in and hugged him with all her strength, letting him bury his face in her hair. Then it was Isshin’s turn, and he hugged his son just as tight.

When they broke apart, his mark started to burn, and Ichigo stiffened, then looked out through the doors of the clinic.

Shiro was there, standing just outside the wards, a pale gray against the navy night. As a Vasto Lorde-class demon, he could have ripped through the barriers like they were tissue paper, but instead he waited for Ichigo to come to him.

His mom hugged him one last time, then the witch walked outside to stand before the demon. Shiro curled a hand around the back of his neck, a few fingers threading through his hair. **“Are you ready?”**

“No. Let’s go.”

The demon laughed quietly in the dark, the warbling in his voice making it sound even more sinister. **“As you wish.”**

And then Ichigo was falling through darkness, boiling hot air rushing past him. He frantically tried to right himself, flipping over so that he was facing the “ground” and spreading his arms and legs wide to slow his descent, spells to thicken the air into a cushion already spilling out –

-a massive invisible hand snatched him up, stopping his fall with a sharp jolt that slammed his head against an armored finger. He lost consciousness immediately, going limp in the hand’s grip.

* * *

Ichigo stirred, woke on a bed softer than anything he’d ever laid on. He blinked slowly in the semidarkness, sighed faintly and sat up. He was in a bedroom dimly lit by flickering sconces on the walls and pillars, and he was lying on a wide four-poster bed that seemed big enough to have its own postal code. The curtains around it were tied back, letting him look out into the rest of the room.

Much of it was just empty space, carpeted with the pelts of strange beasts – no, _demons_ , spread over the dark stone floor. The walls, pillars, and high ceiling were shaped and smoothed from the same magma-like stone, pillars carved to look like human souls in agony, tortured by demons of all shapes and sizes.

Windows and a balcony to the left of the bed opened into a cavern so vast that the far walls vanished into the distance. The floor was a lake of magma, flowing in red-hot rivers between islands of the solidified rock, dotted with houses and pens and torture instruments, naked human souls crammed into cages and left to the mercy of the gleeful lesser demons.

Ichigo turned away from the sight and looked around the rest of the room, finally spotting a door in the opposite wall. The hall beyond was lit by the same sconces of hellfire, empty of life. The witch carefully ventured out, several nasty spells already on his lips.

The halls were completely empty. Where was everyone? Ichigo stepped out of one hall and into a foyer of sorts, frowning as he looked around. One of his personal wards tingled, but he reacted too late.

“Well, well, well, what have we here? A lost little human?” A hand with a grip of steel seized him by the hair and yanked him of balance, back bent painfully as he tried to keep his feet.

Without thinking, Ichigo spat out the foulest curse he knew, followed by four more in a similar vein. His attacker swore and let go, dodging away.

The spell had connected; one of the blue-haired demon’s arms was dissolving an inch at a time, his face twitching in agony. He growled, then drew the sword belted at his waist and cut off the rest of his arm above the spell effect.

“Pathetic, Grimmjow,” another demon laughed, appearing nearby with a staticky buzz, “It’s just one human, and you lost an arm!”

“Shaddup, Nnoitra, no one asked for your opinion,” Grimmjow snarled at the newcomer, “I’d like to see you do better!”

‘Nnoitra’ grinned viciously. “All right then!” He took a step towards Ichigo, but another voice stopped him.

“Fools,” spat one of the women who had appeared on the mezzanine, “Can’t you see he’s marked? Shiro’ll kill you if you hurt him.”

Grimmjow spotted the stripes at last and distinctly backed down, but Nnoitra just laughed. “Shiro ain’t here, Emilou, so he ain’t gonna say nothin’! Oi, Harribel! Get yer fracción under control!”

The blonde woman’s blue-green eyes narrowed, but she said nothing. Nnoitra rounded on Ichigo again, advancing with a nasty grin – and vanished. The witchy was halfway through another vicious curse when a deafening crash cut him off.

A clawed hand landed on Ichigo’s shoulder, holding tight enough that his body protested. **“I already taught you once to _keep your hands off what is mine_ ,”** Shiro growled, the foyer nearly vibrating with the force of his fury, **_“Do I need to repeat the lesson, Nnoitra?”_**

The other demon snarled and tried to rise, but Shiro was suddenly _there_ , slamming a foot down on his sword arm. Ichigo heard the bones snap. Nnoitra howled. **_“I asked you a question.”_**

“You’ve gone soft!” the maskless demon snarled, “Because of that human-” His voice cut off as Shiro’s hand closed around his throat, mouth opening in a soundless cry as the stronger demon’s foot ground down on his broken bones.

 **“It appears I _do_ need to give a refresher,”** Shiro said, voice going deceptively calm, **“Ulquiorra.”**

Another demon appeared, this one dark-haired and green eyed, half of a helmet-like mask covering part of his hair. “My lord?”

 **“Take Ichigo by the library. Let him pick out some books to entertain himself with, then take him back to my quarters.”** Ichigo’s bones started creaking, muscles straining to keep him standing under the increasing pressure of Shiro’s aura. **“I’m sorry, Ichi, but it’s going to be a bit longer before I can join you.”**

“That’s – okay,” he managed to gasp out, finally seeing why even the Head Demon Hunter couldn’t handle Shiro, “I’ll see you later, then.” The witch followed the demon Ulquiorra out of the foyer, closing his ears to the crunch of bone and fresh screams. “Uh… Ulquiorra?” Though the demon didn’t respond, Ichigo sensed that he had the other’s attention, so he continued, “Can you tell me why you all have broken masks, and Shiro doesn’t?”

The demon glanced at him, then said, “All things have a natural limit to the power they can obtain through normal means. When demons reach that limit, we can break our masks and extend that limit, though only once. As Shiro- _sama_ has not yet reached the peak of his power, he does not feel the need.” He chose a seemingly random door out of the dozens they passed, and pushed it open. “There are several volumes on the subject if you wish to learn more.”

The witch barely heard him, mouth hanging open.

The library was _enormous_. The shelves were easily fifty feet tall, stacked with books and scrolls and loose papers from top to bottom, and seemed as if they went on forever into the distance.

Ichigo couldn’t help it. He made a soft, dreamy noise and vanished into the stacks. Ulquiorra finally found him again almost twenty minutes later, the witch a hundred pages deep in an ancient grimoire. The demon didn’t frown, but his eyebrows distinctly twitched. With a heavy air of reluctance, Ichigo gathered up the books he wanted to borrow – still so many that the demon had to carry some – and followed the other back to Shiro’s rooms.

The witch lost track of time, poring over the ancient tomes, some written in languages he’d never learned but understood anyway (something about Hell, perhaps?). He had finished four and was about to start on a fifth when the door opened.

It was Ulquiorra again, bearing a tray of food. Ichigo’s stomach growled at the sight, and he blinked, only then realizing how hungry he was. “Ah… thank you,” he said as the demon set the tray down on the night stand, “but… where’s Shiro?”

“He has a few more matters to attend to. Until he returns, Starrk, Harribel, or myself will be standing guard at the door. If you need something, ask.”

The witch nodded and, with a murmured “ _itadakimasu,_ ” started eating. The demon waited until he was done, then took the dishes away without a word.

Refocusing on his surroundings, Ichigo spotted another door he hadn’t noticed before and went to investigate. It opened into a bathroom sized to match the bedroom, with a shower that could hold two dozen people and a bathtub as large as an Olympic swimming pool filled with steaming hot water. The witch was in need of a toilet, however, but after relieving himself, he tested the temperature of the bath. It was just right, just hot enough to feel good without scalding, so he stripped and got in. The witch cleaned himself quickly, but stayed in the water until his fingers and toes turned to prunes.

His clothes were still dirty from a day’s wear, but he hadn’t thought to bring more. He pulled on his boxers but left his shirt and jeans folded on the night stand, and climbed into bed.

It took a long time to fall asleep, but when he finally did, he slept without dreaming.

* * *

When Ichigo woke (the next day?), he was still alone, but his clothes had been replaced with a black version of Shiro’s attire, and more books like the ones he had chosen had been added to his stack. He dressed quickly, and found that the _hakama_ and modified _kosode_ fit him perfectly, better than most of the clothes he had at home.

He spent most of the day reading and walking around the perimeter of the room just to get some exercise, but still Shiro did not appear. He fell into bed at what his body clock said was between ten and eleven at night, not bothering to bathe or change since he hadn’t really done anything that day (was it a day? Time had passed, but it felt… _strange_ … in Hell).

He woke again, this time in the middle of the night, to the sounds of angry hissing. The torches had dimmed further, only the ones nearest the doors retaining their usual glow, making the figure pacing through the pillars out to be just a moving mass of shadow.

Ichigo recognized the silhouette. “Shiro.”

Glowing gold-on-black eyes met his brown, then began moving towards him. The torches around the bed brightened a little, letting him see the demon as he approached. Shiro’s form slowly lost its more bestial configuration the closer he came (and though the demon had done wicked things to him with that long tail, that spiked cock, Ichigo preferred his more human shape – easier to read emotionally).

The witch laid back on the bed as the demon climbed on top of him, straddling his thighs. “Politics?”

 **“Nnoitra isn’t the only one who’s not _happy_ about you being here,”** Shiro growled, **“Most don’t care one way or another ‘cause they know I can and _will_ still kick their asses – Ulquiorra, Starrk, Harribel, Nelliel – but some need to be _reminded_.”** He dragged a claw down the mortal’s front, the altered _kosode_ somehow parting without ripping.

“You can’t just kill the dissenters?”

 **“They’re strong enough that I wouldn’t be able to replace them without an amount of work that would defeat the purpose.”** The demon pulled off his own _kosode_ , then smoothed his hands down the other’s chest. **“Right now, at least, it’s easier to just force them back into line. Still a pain, though.”**

“Do you – ah! – think that – aaah… - one of the others will – try something?”

 **“I _hope_ they do,”** he hummed, scraping a claw over one of Ichigio’s nipples while still being mindful of its sharpness, **“Nnoitra’s strong, but he’s not very popular. Most’ll see him getting thrashed as him getting his due.”** He nipped the witch’s throat with the teeth of his mask. **“It’ll make more of an impact if it’s someone else, like Baraggan or even Luppi.”**

Ichigo hummed, briefly wondering if those two had been among the demons he saw previously, before deciding he didn’t care. Shiro was more important, especially with how he was grinding their cocks together through their _hakama_. The witch groaned and squirmed out from under the demon to wrap his legs around the other’s waist. That made the demon chuckle, even as he folded his hands under Ichigo’s ass to give them both a better angle (and get a good grope in, he wasn’t gonna lie).

The witch moaned and rutted against him, making him grin before he hauled the other up and around so that they were back to chest, then shoved his hand down the mortal’s _hakama_. Ichigo screamed, then thrashed in his arms, arching his whole body and bucking into his hot grip, the demon’s power electrifying his nerves. Shiro just held him tight and rested his chin on one shoulder, continuing to jerk him off.

“Shiro,” Ichigo gasped, “Shiro – fuck, I’m – ah! Ah! – I’m close, I’m close, oh fuck Shiro, _please_!”

 **“You beg _so_ sweetly,”** the demon purred in his ear, dipping his hand down to press behind the mortal’s balls, sending a bolt of power straight to his prostate, and Ichigo was gone.

He didn’t scream out his release; there wasn’t enough air in his lungs. Instead he went completely rigid, then utterly limp in the demon’s arms as he almost shot his brains out through his cock. Shiro purred and laid him back on the mattress. The teeth of his mask parted, and his long tongue snaked out to lick his hand clean. Then, carefully – _so_ carefully – the demon took off his mask.

Ichigo couldn’t help but stare as Shiro set the horned, skull-like mask on the night stand, then turned back to him. Aside from his coloration – and the length of part of his hair – the demon could have passed for his identical twin. Shiro grinned widely at his stunned expression. “What… How…?”

 **“Szayel thinks I have some succubus or incubus blood in me. Only, instead of becoming someone’s heart’s desire, I become the last person I fucked.”** He pulled off Ichigo’s _hakama_ , then his own, and turned the witch over onto his stomach. The mortal was still limp as cooked noodles from the force of his orgasm, and so just groaned and let his white mirror position him how he would.

Shiro settled between Ichigo’s spread legs, teasingly ground himself against the other’s ass. The mortal groaned quietly, but it was still too soon after his last heart-stopping orgasm for him to start getting hard again. The demon just grinned and trailed a talon down his spine, making him shiver and shift. He followed its path with lips and tongue, sucking hickeys into his flesh. Ichigo sighed a little with each one, wobbling up onto elbows and knees at the demon’s urging, then gasping and arching when the other spread his cheeks and made himself quite at home between them, lapping at his hole. “Shiro!”

The demon’s chuckle made him gasp and fist the sheets, squirming in the other’s unbreakable grip. Shiro held his hips immobile and continued to slick and stretch him until he was satisfied with his looseness. Then he pressed his whole body up against Ichigo’s, one white arm coming up under one of the witch’s to curl over his chest and grip the opposite shoulder. In the blink of an eye, he slicked up his cock, then pushed in.

Ichigo moaned, body beginning to stir once more. Shiro pressed his grin against the mortal’s neck and began to move, setting a slow, easy pace that would let the witch get back in the game before the demon drew near the edge. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t help the other along. His grin widened, and – with even more care than he’d shown his mask – he let a claw trail up the vein on the underside of the mortal’s stiffening cock.

Ichigo tensed and quivered in his arms, but the precome that started dripping from his tip gave away how much he got off on the unvoiced threat. The demon nipped at an ear lobe and started thrusting faster, the witch gasping every time he ground over his prostate. **“You gonna be good for me, Ichi?”** Shiro purred in his ear, **“Gonna come again?”**

The witch groaned, then bit out a fierce, _“Fuck!”_ when the demon changed his angle to strike his prostate directly with each thrust.

**“That’s the idea, yes.”**

“You fucker – fuck! _Shiro!”_

Faster still, beyond what a human could hope to maintain for long. The demon’s knot was starting to swell, forcing him to work harder to complete his thrusts. He gauged the amount of time he had left before full expansion, hummed and stroked Ichigo’s cock once, then let his power trip through the witch’s nerves once more.

Ichigo’s whole body seized again, then he slackened, moaning and grasping at the sheets with shaking hands as he came again. Shiro hissed a curse in Hellspeak as the witch clenched around him, and managed a handful of thrusts before he came, too, his knot expanding and tying them together.

After a long moment, the demon sighed in contentment and shifted them onto their sides, a more comfortable position for the duration of the knotting. Ichigo waited until his breathing returned to normal before he asked a question that had been on his mind for a long time. “Shiro?”

**“Mm?”**

“Why me?”

**“Mm… why you, _what?_ There are a lot of answers I could give. You’re going to have to be more specific.”**

“You’ve made countless deals for people’s souls over the years, but to my knowledge, I’m the only one you didn’t collect when my deal came due. Why _me?_ ”

Shiro chuckled. **“You’re right, you know. I was born about when Newgrange was being built in Ireland, more than five thousand years ago, now. In all that time, yours is the only soul I didn’t claim ‘when the clock struck midnight,’ shall we say.**

**“As for _why_ … mostly on a whim.”**

“A _whim? Really?_”

 **“You’re a unique situation, Ichi,”** said the demon, shuddering a little as an aftershock rolled through him, fresh seed coating the mortal’s insides, **“In all my years, I can count on one hand the number of times someone’s sold their firstborn to me. With all the others, the parents recanted and forfeited their own souls in place of their kid. It didn’t happen this time – ‘cause you beat ‘em to the punch. Your mom summoned me just a few hours after you did.**

**“All my other deals, when they came due, they tried to get out of it. Tried to run, tried to bargain, tried to threaten. But _you_ – rather than _wait_ for the end, you  summoned me – and then you _asked_ me not to take you, even though you had made your peace with the world. No bargains, no threats, no promises of more souls if only I’d let you go – you just _asked._**

**“And I thought, ‘ _Finally._ Someone _interesting.’_**

**“And so, I let you live.”**

“But one day you’ll collect.”

 **“One day,”** Shiro agreed, **“It might be tomorrow, it might be the end of your natural life.”**

“I imagine it’ll be sooner than that. You won’t want to fuck me when I’m old.”

 **“Oh, we’ll see about that. You don’t know everything that gets me off.”** The demon leaned up on one elbow and wiggled his eyebrows.

Ichigo shoved a hand in his face. “ _Gross!_ Now I’m _definitely_ not gonna get it up again, thinking about that!”

**“We’ll see about that, too.”**


	3. Natural Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Demonic ass babies. Also, remEMBER WHEN THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A TWOSHOT?!? YEAH, ME TOO!!!

“… you fucking shit dick, I’m gonna kill you.”

**“I didn’t know this was going to happen any more than you did!”**

“The fact remains that it _did_ , and it’s _your fault!!_ ” Ichigo would have leaped off the exam table to throttle the demon hovering on the other side of the room, but his father stopped him.

“Ryuuken, is there any possibility that you are mistaken?” the elder Kurosaki male asked.

The other doctor pushed his glasses further up his nose, the lenses flashing. “I thought that myself when the results first came back. I ran the test an additional four times. There is no mistake.”

The witch groaned and fell back onto the exam table. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Masaki laid a consoling hand on her son’s shoulder. “How is this possible, then?”

Everyone looked at Shiro. He shrugged and said, **“It shouldn’t be. Other demons have taken long-term lovers before. The only ones ever impregnated were women.”**

“ _Kill you_ ,” Ichigo hissed, and threw an arm over his face.

“Ichigo, do you want to keep it?” his mother asked.

“I don’t know. After everything that’s happened, I didn’t think kids were in the cards.” He laid a hand on his still-flat belly. “I guess we should also be asking, ‘Is it even possible to abort him?’”

 **“‘Him?’”** Shiro repeated, **“It’s a boy? You’re sure?”**

“Uh, yeah. He just… I don’t know, he feels like a boy.”

**“Then no, it’s not possible to abort him. He’s started tethering his energy to yours for the duration of the pregnancy. Killing him would at best break your power. At worst, it’d kill you too.”**

“The fetus is tying himself to Ichigo?” Ryuuken asked, “For what purpose?”

**“He has to get spirit energy somehow, and the volume he needs is too great for him to just absorb from the environment.”**

“So like an umbilical cord for the soul, then.”

**“…sure. Let’s go with that.”**

Ryuuken pursed his lips a little, then pushed his glasses up his nose again. “Since we don’t know how this is going to affect you, I’d like weekly checkups so we can monitor your health and that of the fetus. I’ll also get you a list of supplements you’ll need to take, probably double the recommended dose.” He ignored Ichigo’s groan and turned to Shiro. “Is he going to need to spend time in Hell to help the fetus develop?”

**“Not if I stay nearby.”**

“And if you didn’t…?” Masaki trailed off.

 **“Then yes, in order to maintain the balance in his soul. Ichi isn’t the only one the kid’s pulling from.”** Shiro folded his arms. **“He’s a cambion, a half-demon, formed from both human and demon energies. He needs both during his development, otherwise he could end up… wrong. I saw the result once, about a thousand years ago now. I don’t know who sired her, but they didn’t stick around. She was born dead, looked like a little skeleton wrapped in skin, with stubby horns and a tail. She turned to ash in her mother’s arms, and she died, too, not long after.”**

“If you let my son die like that –“

 **“I ain’t gonna,”** Shiro interrupted before she could finish, **“I’m a demon, not a _monster_. Even _I’ve_ got  some integrity. Ichi’s faithfully abided by the terms of our agreement, and so will I. He wants to keep living here on Earth, so I’ll make it happen. If it means I gotta hang here for a year…”** He shrugged. **“So be it.”**

Ichigo smiled a little at that. ‘So there is honor among thieves. – Wait.’ “A- a _year?!_ ”

That time no one could have stopped him for going for the demon’s throat.

* * *

One of the nice things about getting pregnant by a demon was that he _finally_ got to explain what was going on to his friends. Of course, that brought its own set of problems.

“So let me get this straight,” said Renji, hands pressed together in front of his mouth, “Demons are real, and your parents hunt them.”

“Used to, yes.”

“Because your mom got possessed, right.”

Ichigo’s eyes narrowed at Renji’s flippant attitude, and he exchanged a glance with Shiro, who was standing behind the couch where most of his friends were sitting. Uryu, who knew about demons from his father and grandfather and could see the pale figure, had opted for a lounge chair, fingering his spirit-bow generator. Chad had taken the chair opposite him.

“So your dad sold you to the demon that possessed your mom in exchange for leaving her, and now this demon has gotten you preggo.”

“Yes.”

“… what are you smoking and where can I get some?”

Ichigo scowled. “Shiro.”

The demon grinned. In one smooth motion, he grabbed Renji by the back of the head and shoved him forward, slamming him down onto the coffee table, hard enough to hurt but not do any real damage. “You deserved that,” the witch said bluntly as the demon climbed over the back of the couch. Orihime and Rukia both gasped and jerked away when his mane brushed them, then his tail.

“Assume your more human form before I make you visible.”

**“Aw, come on, Ichi…”**

“Non-negotiable, Shiro.”

The demon sighed and did so, then sat next to the witch. Then Ichigo touched his arm and used a spell he’d spent the better part of a week mastering, one to take pure spirit energy – like a demon, for example – and make it visible to the unaided eye. A separate but similar one made it so they could hear him, too.

Both Renji (who had a bruise on his forehead and the beginnings of a nosebleed) and Rukia froze in place, staring. Chad tensed and hunched a little, hands lifting slightly as if he was expecting a fight. And Orihime – she scrambled backwards on the couch, nearly fusing herself with the cushions in an attempt to get distance between them.

“O-Orihime, it’s okay, he’s not going to do anything to you,” Ichigo hastened to assure her, holding his hands out in a placating gesture.

**“Not yet.”**

Ichigo stamped on his foot, making him squawk. “Not ever!”

**“Hey, if they decide that they wanna make a deal, that’s between them and me!”**

To his friends, “Piece of advice – _don’t_.”

**“Hey!”**

“Hm.” Uryu pushed his glasses further up his nose, just like his father. “You aren’t at all what I expected.”

**“Not all humans are the same. Neither are demons.”**

“The ones I’ve encountered are.”

**“Those’d be the Gillans, then. Brainless morons, the lowest of the low and dumb as posts. If Hell was a military, they’d be the foot soldiers.”**

Ichigo snorted at Shiro’s description.

“Then what does that make you?” Chad asked.

**“Vasto Lorde.”**

Uryu shot bolt upright in his chair, making the others tense, too.

**“Keeping with the previous analogy… a general.”**

* * *

**“I think that went well.”**

“Uryu tried to kill you.”

 **“It’s not like he’d actually gotten anywhere with that. He’s barely strong enough to take on the Gillans.”** Shiro perched on the witch’s desk chair while Ichigo flopped onto his bed. **“You’ve got another appointment tomorrow.”**

“Yeah. You gonna behave yourself this time, or do I have to make you wait in the hall again?”

**“I didn’t like the way he was touching you.”**

“He’s a _doctor_ , Shiro. He has to touch me to do his job. Also, I’m a _man_ , who is _pregnant_. He’s going to be curious.”

 **“Gotta keep you away from Szayel, then, even after this is done. He’ll want to take you apart to see all the whys and wherefores and whatever.”** The demon slinked over to lie next to Ichigo, who sighed in contentment at his warmth.

“And Mayuri,” he mumbled, “He’d do the same. Should probably make sure they never meet.”

Shiro hummed in agreement. Although he’d never met the other scientist, he’d heard stories from the demons who _had_ , stories that convinced him that the hunter had a place reserved for him in Hell. In spite their wishes, the scientists would end up meeting sooner or later.

But Ichigo didn’t need to know that.

**“Have you thought about names?”**

“Nothing seems right,” the witch sighed, “I’ve lost count of the pages I’ve scrolled through, but nothing fits. He doesn’t like them.”

**“Our son is a tough customer.”**

“He gets it from you,” Ichigo replied automatically, rolling the words around in his mind. ‘Our son. _Our_ son. Our _son_.’

**“You can’t blame me for _everything_.”**

“You’re _way_ more stubborn than I am.”

**“Hello, Pot, my name is Kettle. You’re black.”**

“Rude.”

* * *

Shiro was perfectly behaved during the next day’s appointment, though he did growl quietly when Ryuuken had to lift Ichigo’s shirt and rub the ultrasound gel on his stomach. Ichigo smacked his arm. “It’s necessary.”

“Indeed,” Ryuuken commented, “While often cold and uncomfortable for some, the machine could not read such clear images without it – dry skin is not conductive to sound waves.

“And there he is.”

Witch and demon peered at the screen, at the peanut of lighter matter against the darkness of the womb. That was their son – a little nugget of life slowly growing inside the witch.

“He seems healthy enough,” said the doctor, moving the transducer around and changing the angle to get a few different views, “but none of my professors or textbooks ever went into great detail about what constitutes ‘healthy’ for a half-demon child, so we’ll have to play it by ear.”

 **“If something was wrong, we would know. Or at least Ichi would.”** Shiro creeped closer to squint at the image on the screen. **“But cambions are pretty resilient. Anything that doesn’t kill them right away, tends not to kill them at all.”**

The doctor made a note of that in the already rather extensive file he was compiling for Ichigo, Shiro, and their still-unnamed son. After that, he gave strict instructions for the witch to continued his supplement regimen, and scheduled another appointment for the same time next week.

On their way back to his parents’ house (where he was staying for the duration of the pregnancy, because his mother had put her foot down), Ichigo asked, “Shiro? What did you mean by that whole ‘anything that doesn’t kill them right away’ deal?”

**“Huh? Oh, with the cambion? I’ve only ever met two, but because of who their parents are – one of them, at least – they don’t get sick, and it’s difficult to hurt them unless you’re a higher order than they are. They’re also… _more_ … than ordinary people. Stronger, smarter, faster, more powerful magically too – heh. I kinda wanna see what happens when you pit a cambion against a Nephilim.”**

“A Ne- a half-angel? _Really?_ ”

**“Yeah! Don’t you?”**

“ _No.”_ Pause. “And you are _not_ doing that to our son.”

**“Spoilsport.”**

Ichigo resumed walking. “You were a cambion while you were alive, weren’t you?”

Shiro smirked under his mask. **“Maybe,”** was the cryptic reply.

* * *

“Kazui.”

**“What?”**

“ _Kazui_. Our son’s name.”

**“‘Steadfast.’”**

“Yes.”

**“… He really is gonna be a stubborn little bastard, then.”**

“Shiro!”

* * *

Ichigo woke in the dead of night, panting and shivering. He felt frozen all over, even though his room was hotter than normal as a nod to its temporary resident. Shiro was curled up in his more bestial form, on top of a demon pelt spread like a shag carpet over the witch’s floor. He didn’t seem to hear when the witch chattered out his name, but the Vasto Lorde jolted awake when Ichigo’s spirit energy touched his own. A second later he was on the bed, leaning half over the witch with hands braced on either side of his head. **“Ichi?”**

“C-c-cold,” he managed, “F-feel like I’m f-freezin’, Sh-Shi’.”

The demon pushed his blankets aside and stretched out, half on top of him but mostly next to him, mindful of the growing swell of his stomach. Ichigo moaned at the heat the demon seemed to radiate and tried to tug him closer, tried to wrap Shiro all the way around him, but despite the demon’s greater bulk in his current form, it wasn’t enough. He kept shivering, even when he was cocooned in the other’s spirit energy.

“What the f-f-f-fuck is this b-bullshit?!” the witch growled as Shiro settled more firmly against him, “I-is K-Kazui doing this?”

 **“I don’t know. He might not be doing in on purpose, but it probably is because of him.”** The demon seemed ready to say more but stopped. Then, **“Are you hard?”**

“I d-don’t know, a-am I? I-I-” Ichigo had to turn his head into his pillow to muffle his cry when the end of Shiro’s tail pressed against his crotch. He _was_ hard, hard enough to pound nails, it seemed. But the surge of warmth that rushed through him at the touch overrode all else, and he bucked his hips, moaning softly. “F-fuck! Shiro…” He had to smother another cry when that tail snaked up through the leg of his boxers to curl over his cock.

 **“Ssh… don’t wanna wake your family, do we?”** Shiro hummed, wrapping the appendage around the other’s length and stroking slow but firm. The witch didn’t seem to be complaining about the cold anymore, so they were headed in the right direction.

Ichigo bit his lip, clutching at his sheets with one hand while the other scrabbled for purchase on the demon’s slippery-smooth skin. “Fuck,” he panted, then gasped as more of Shiro’s tail slipped into his boxers to press between his legs. _“Fuck!”_

The demon hummed and covered the witch’s mouth, pinning his wrists to the mattress. He tugged Ichigo’s boxers off with his tail to give him more room and continued jerking him off, watching as his body thrashed and eyes rolled with every touch of his power. Then he went taut as a bowstring, wet seed spreading over part of the demon’s tail, before going limp on the bed, moaning weakly.

Shiro withdrew to hover over the witch on all fours, licking his tail clean while Ichigo shivered with the aftershocks – and then started straight shivering again. The witch cursed under his breath, fiercely and foully enough to make the demon laugh quietly, then squirmed out of his clothes before rolling over and presenting.

Shiro hummed in pleasure at the sight, and lubed him up with a touch of his tail, then started easing the appendage into his hole to stretch him out. Ichigo whimpered when it wiggled inside him and pressed against his prostate, radiating energy that set his nerve endings alight. Shiro continued humming, until Ichigo hissed, “In me! In me _now_ , Shiro!”

 **“Pregnancy’s made you even _more_ demanding, Ichi,”** the demon purred, and vanished his hakama as he pulled his tail out.

In his more bestial “full demon” form, Shiro’s dick was _weird_. There was no other word for it. The head was barbed almost like a cat’s, while the shaft was ridged with a stubby spike on the underside that would press against his prostate when they were tied back-to-chest. Then there was the knot itself – definitely _not_ ordinary human anatomy.

Ichigo shivered – from anticipation this time – when he felt the tip push in with a slow roll of the demon’s hips. Shiro resumed humming, purring really, and moved deeper at the same slow pace, ignoring the witch’s insistent attempts at grinding back against him. **“ _Patience_ is a _virtue_ , Strawberry.”**

“You’re a _demon_ ,” the human growled and tried to thrust back, but lacked the height to do more than move himself on the other’s cock.

 **“That means nothing.”** But Shiro drove the rest of the way into him anyway, and purred louder when he was fully seated.

Ichigo buried his face in his pillow to muffle his moan. He _finally_ felt warm again, but his fingers and toes still tingled with unnatural chill. The demon seemed to notice the shaking of his hands and the goosebumps, and covered the witch’s hands with his own before starting to thrust. The human whined quietly as the fleshy spike and ridges and barb dragged over his inner walls, raked over his prostate and heated his whole body. He was starting to get back into the game, starting to edge toward hardness (even though he’d never gone completely soft).

Each thrust sent a wave of warmth and pleasure rolling through his body, the temperature rising until he felt almost hot, where it plateaued. But the pleasure kept intensifying, Shiro’s knot starting to swell and the ridges and spike electrifying his nerves with every pass. “Shiro!” he gasped, “Shiro, I’m – fuck, _fuck_ – I’m close, I’m close, please!”

 **“You’re always _so_ good for me, Ichi,”** the demon hummed, and moved one of his hands to stroke the witch’s cock. Though rougher than the rest of him, the skin of his hand was strange but stimulating against his sensitive skin. It only took a handful of thrusts and strokes for him to come again, the demon right behind him. The press of the spike against his prostate extended his orgasm until he was sobbing from overstimulation, forcing Shiro to shift their position until he came down.

 **“Are you warm now?”** Shiro asked, nuzzling the back of the witch’s neck as they lay tied in his bed.

“Yes,” Ichigo managed, “so warm.” It was putting him to sleep. But before he was completely out, he mumbled, “Remind me to tell Uncle Ryuu ‘bout this.”

* * *

The demon did remind him, surprisingly enough, resulting in the doctor-slash-demon-hunter adding “regular sex” to his list of recommendations for Ichigo’s pregnancy.

(The cold spells never happened again.)

Kazui continued developing normally, as far as they could tell, looking 100% human on all the ultrasounds. In fact, the only thing that was unusual about him (aside from the fact that he would be born to two men) was the amount of spirit energy he was pulling from both his parents. It was high – _abnormally_ high. Their recharge rates were higher still, but even so.

 **“Our son’s gonna be strong,”** Shiro sighed absently, skimming through one of the many parenting books they’d been showered with (although there was nothing in them about what to do if your child was a still-unborn half-demon who already had enough spirit energy to drive grown men to their knees).

“That’s what worries me,” Ichigo replied, rubbing a hand over the now-distinct curve of his stomach, “What if we’re not strong enough to discipline him if he does something wrong? What if he fights us?”

**“He’ll be a _kid_ , Ichi.”**

“That means nothing. And I’m sure _you_ were a _perfect little angel_ when you were young.”

**“I was a lot better behaved than I am now, that’s for sure.”**

“Of _that_ I have no doubt.”

 **“He’s a half-demon, so anti-demon stuff will work on him, just not as strongly,”** Shiro admitted finally, **“Set an inactive ward around his room, and charge it so he can’t leave when he’s grounded. Make some holy water; even as strong as he’ll probably be, the worst it’ll give him is a stinging rash. Probably the same for cold iron, too.”**

“What about holy symbols?”

**“That I don’t know. For us, the ones that cause us problems are from whatever religion we practiced in life, if any. Others are just a repellant; they don’t actively hurt us. He might inherit something from me, but my primary religion is _long_ dead.”**

“… what religion did Nnoitra practice?”

**“Uh… well, he refuses to have anything to do with their priests and shrines, so probably Shinto, but don’t quote me on that.”**

“… that’s not an organized religion. If I wanted to protect myself and Kazui under Shinto, I’d need _ofuda_ from every temple in the country!”

**“That’s not realistic.”**

_“Exactly!”_

* * *

But it seemed that Nnoitra wasn’t the one who would cause problems over Ichigo’s pregnancy and Shiro’s temporary absence from Hell.

It was the hunters.

At about the five-month mark, his belly had grown too large to be hidden, even with spells, so he avoided going out wherever possible during the day, used a glamor at night, and spent a lot of time exercising and practicing magic in Urahara’s secret training ground. Whenever he needed something or had weird cravings, his parents handled it.

Meanwhile, Shiro got more edgy with each passing day, and accompanied Ichigo everywhere – _everywhere_. He hovered close to the witch, eyed everyone suspiciously, and growled at those who didn’t stay at what he considered to be an acceptable distance. Ryuuken ignored him with practiced ease.

But somehow, the hunters found out. (Ichigo suspected Mayuri. That, or someone noticed Shiro hanging around, but it was probably Mayuri. He thanked the gods that word reached the Head Captain before the mad scientist could kidnap him for experiments.)

The first he heard of it was when Kenpachi and his officers accosted him while he and Shiro were shopping with the girls. Well, the girls (his mom and sisters, Rukia, Orihime, and Yoruichi) were shopping for baby clothes; Ichigo was sitting on a bench in the home department, trying to take the weight off his already-sore ankles. Shiro was hidden in some false foliage nearby, but he had reached out with his energy to soothe the mortal’s pain.

The first thing he heard was Ikkaku’s laughter. “Ahahahaha! Oh – oh – holy shit – ahahaha – you-you really got a bun in the oven, doncha, Ichigo?!? Ahahahahaha-“

_“I will not hesitate to put a curtain rod through your skull, Ikkaku.”_

“How ugly,” said Yumichika, but that could have been about Ikkaku’s potential demise or the wisteria-colored drapes he was examining.

“Ichi, you got big!” Yachiru jumped down from her foster father’s shoulder to crouch next to the witch on the bench and peer at his stomach.

“I’m pregnant, Yachiru.”

“Whaaaa?! I thought only broads could get pregnant!”

Yumichika was on her almost immediately, scolding her for her language, but Kenpachi just loomed over the witch, making him narrow his eyes.

“What.”

“Where’s the demon.”

A second later Shiro was there, standing close to the human. Kenpachi must have recognized him because he started grinning widely, eyes sparking the way they did when he was itching for a fight. _“You.”_

**“Me. What do you want.”**

“The Head Captain wants to see you both,” the hunter grinned, “but he can wait.” Ichigo blinked, and Nozarashi was in his hands.

The clank of a chain made Ichigo look back. Shiro now had a sword of his own, a pure white _daitou_ with a short chain dangling from the end of the hilt. ‘Oh shit-‘ “ _No fighting indoors!_ ” the witch snarled, forcing himself to his feet so he could get between them, “You hear me?! _No fighting indoors!_ ” He turned to the demon. “And no killing!”

 **“I’m not going to kill him,”** was the growled reply, **“I’m just going to maim him a little.”**

_“Is there a problem?”_

‘Saved by the mom,’ Ichigo sighed in relief. Masaki’s tone was so bitterly cold that both demon and hunter immediately stood down, their spirit weapons vanishing.

His whole entourage – demon, witch, hunters, and humans – wound up coming with him downtown to the Pure Souls Court. It was a nondescript building between two others almost exactly like it, but to the spiritually aware, it was lit up like a Christmas tree.

Byakuya was waiting for them at the door, inorder to permit Shiro entrance. Once he had done so, Rukia immediately interjected, “Nii-sama! Why didn’t you tell me about all of this?!” She waved at Shiro, Ichigo, and the building.

“It was trying to keep you safe,” he replied, unusually candid, and then glared (as much as hunter nobility _did_ glare) at Ichigo.

The witch returned with an unimpressed stare. “‘Ignorant’ isn’t ‘safe,’ jackass. Thanks, Shiro.”

The demon hummed in acknowledgement and released him when they reached the top of the stairs.

The rest of the regional captains were already assembled in one of the informal meeting halls, most out of curiosity than an actual summons. They weren’t alone; most of their lieutenants and seated officers were crowding the corners of the room, making Ichigo’s scowl deepen even as his mother audibly ground her teeth. Upon seeing the Vasto Lorde, however, they all shrank back or left.

Yamamoto narrowed his eyes as Shiro and the Kurosakis took their seats on the opposite end of the table, Yoruichi and even Rukia and Orihime standing close to support them. Kenpachi also seemed to be on their side, at least for the moment, shamelessly grinning at Shiro and radiating bloodlust, and wherever he went, so did Yachiru, Ikkaku, and Yumichika.

“So it _is_ true, then,” the Head Captain said at last, “You _have_ conceived.”

“I’m not exactly over the moon about this either, sou-taichou, but by the time we realized what had happened, it was already too late.”

“How is this possible?” It was more a demand than a request.

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

“If you would permit me, I believe I could-“

“I’ll have my doctor forward you all my file,” Ichigo continued, giving Mayuri an absolutely _lethal_ glare, “but if you lay a finger on me, I’m sure Shiro would be _quite_ happy to drag you straight to Hell.”

“Why, you-“

_“Straight. To. Hell.”_

**“It would be my _genuine_ pleasure,”** the Vasto Lorde hissed.

Yamamoto nodded in acceptance. The scientist looked furious, but subsided, though he still shot the witch poisonous looks. “Do you plan on keeping it after it is born?” the Head Captain asked.

“Yes.” Ichigo kept his tone flat to hide his anger. Kazui was _not_ an “ _it”_.

“Its behavior will be your responsibility.”

“ _Until_ he comes of age.”

The Head Captain stared him down, but the witch refused to yield. The old man had always been bitter that Ichigo had chosen to follow in Urahara’s footsteps rather than his parents’, becoming a witch rather than a hunter, never mind that they regularly worked together to keep the world safe from all manner of things. At last, he nodded. “Does _he_ have a name?”

“Kazui.”

The old man grunted in acknowledgement. Then he eyed Shiro, taking note of how close the demon was to the witch, how his power crackled through the air, barely suppressed. “When he comes of age, _Kazui_ will be required to register in our system, same as you did. The same rules apply.”

“Understood.”

Shiro glanced at Ichigo before returning his gaze to the Head Captain. The witch didn’t seem outraged, so the rules must have been reasonable.

“And what is _your_ role in all this?”

The demon grinned, his mask’s teeth parting and thoroughly creeping out several officers, exactly as intended. **“I should think that’s fairly obvious.”**

Yamamoto scowled, though there were a few chuckles, mostly from Shunsui before Nanao whacked him with her book. “Why are you still _here_ , on Earth?”

 **“Demon, not monster. If you honestly think I’d leave my son defenseless with Captain ‘Vivisect All the Things’ over there running around, you’re even dumber than I thought,”** Shiro answered smoothly. It wasn’t completely a lie. **“Even _we’ve_ got stories about him.”**

“Mm. Very well. I haven’t noticed any omens, so keep lying low for now and we’ll leave you alone.”

Shiro chuckled. As if they could banish him, much less kill him. Though if it came to a fight, there would be an entire continent’s worth of collateral damage. But for Ichigo’s sake (and Kazui’s), he said, **“Agreed.”**

“Then we’re done here.”

And then they went home without incident, which was a _miracle_.

Kurotsuchi tried something, of course, thinking that Shiro wouldn’t realize Nemu was his assistant when she hadn’t been at the meeting. The demon ran her off before she even got close to Ichigo, breaking both her arms in the process.

Kenpachi got his fight with the demon, laying waste to Urahara’s training room and ending up under Unohana’s care for the better part of a month, mush to the witch’s amusement. Kazui seemed to find it funny, too, his spirit energy rippling against his father’s (mother’s?).

Eventually, it occurred to him. “Shiro? How the _fuck_ am I supposed to give birth?!”

Fortunately, Ryuuken had already considered that. Given the lack of very specific organs conductive to childbirth (and the dubious cleanliness of the only available option), he had already taken the training and practiced the techniques necessary to perform a Caesarean section with Isshin assisting. (They couldn’t very well do it at the hospital with his usual staff, since Ichigo was very distinctly male, which would raise questions they couldn’t answer.)

Mayuri tried twice more to capture Ichigo before the birth. The last attempt had Shiro wanting to kill the scientist, but the witch was crueler (and more creative): he used his powers to leak all of the scientist’s experiments to the other captains. The Head Captain wound up doing the job for them and offered a reinstatement to Urahara, which was graciously accepted (at Ichigo’s insistence). The shouten was left in Tessai’s capable hands.

* * *

Of _course_ Kazui decided it was time to be born _in the middle of the night_. Ichigo woke the instant his son’s power disengaged from his own, and groaned loudly before feeling around for his phone.

Ryuuken arrived within five minutes to find that Ichigo had already moved down to the operating room set up in the family clinic, his father administering a general anesthetic even as the witch spun off spells for the same. The Ishida set to work almost immediately, and less than an hour later, the witch was bottle-feeding a healthy baby boy, as he’d never developed breasts (thank the gods).

Shiro sat in a chair next to the bed, watching. Kazui seemed surprisingly aware, looking all around as he sucked on the bottle, and yet he wasn’t at all frightened. Well, maybe a little – of Isshin, who was recording the whole thing with his usual exuberance, tears of joy streaming down his cheeks at the birth of his first grandchild. Yet when the demon leaned close enough, the cambion reached up without fear and grabbed one of his horns, giggling.


	4. Until the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS THE LAST PART!!!! NO MORE!!!

Kazui grew to be a fine young man with a strong moral compass, much to _everyone’s_ surprise, even his parents’. He had a knack for knowing when he was being lied to and ended up going into law, becoming one of the best and fairest prosecutors in a hundred miles.

(And if he used the abilities he inherited from his parents to find the evidence left behind to prove innocence or guilt, well – no one knew but him.)

Both Ichigo and Shiro were proud of their only child, even if the demon wasn’t around nearly as often as he would have liked. (The hunters bitched about “back at full power” and “generating omens” and “upsetting the balance” and other things Shiro didn’t pay attention to.)

(More importantly, he and Ichigo did eventually have sex again. The witch insisted on condoms.)

But time passed, as it always did and always would.

And Ichigo grew old.

It happened slowly, one wrinkle at a time, one orange hair bleeding into gray. His magic reserves never weakened, but his body stopped being able to keep up. His limbs lost their strength and tone, his hands started to shake. Eventually, he was unable to travel beyond Japan, then Karakura, then his own home. When that happened, he said his goodbyes to his son and surviving family and friends, then warded his room specifically to absorb the blowback and used Shiro’s emergency summon.

The warding did its job, but even so he felt like he was caught in a typhoon for a second before everything settled again. Shiro’s clawed hand smoothed over his hair.

“I’m ready to go. My body’s falling apart around me, and it won’t be too much longer before my mind follows. I want to go while I still know myself.”

Shiro hummed. He didn’t ask if he was sure. **“Lie down.”**

The witch stretched out on his side of the bed, the demon standing next to him. Shiro flexed the fingers of one hand, claws briefly glowing red, before he dragged them through the air over his body, starting at his feet. He felt his body start to die as they passed, felt all his organs grind to a halt, and saw a glowing blue-white curl of mist emerge from his mouth, following the curl of the demon’s claws before everything went white.

He was only vaguely aware of his family and friends giving their final goodbyes to his bare soul. Then Shiro _:jumped:_ , and he felt briefly weightless ( although he didn’t understand how he could feel weightless without a body that felt weight) –

And then they were in Hell. The witch had shape and form again, though he was still wrapped up in Shiro’s energy. He turned to the demon, who said, **“Come with me.”**

A ritual chamber awaited them, somewhere in the main fortress. Ichigo quickly lost track of the twists and turns, doors and halls; if he had to find his way back at a later date, he would never make it.

**“Strip.”**

Ichigo did so, realizing in the process that he was young again, probably eighteen like when he modified his deal. Shiro was already nude when the witch finished and came to stand in front of him. The demon curled a hand around to cup the base of his skull. **“I can’t stop you from becoming a demon now that you’re here,”** he said bluntly, **“But if I force you to change, I’ll be able to control it to a certain extent. You’ll retain at least some of your Self and your humanity.”**

The witch considered for only a second. He was being offered a choice, but it wasn’t really a choice at all, not to him. “Okay.”

The demon pressed a hand to his breastbone and started feeding power into him. It felt even better now than when he was alive, but it _burned_ , too, seared its way inside him and made him start panting at the heat. The demon stopped and pulled him close, but the warmth still smoldered inside of him.

And it was growing.

Shiro distracted him from the sensation by carefully pulling off his mask, then kissing him fiercely. Ichigo responded immediately, kissing back just as fiercely and moaning when the warmth rose higher. The demon laid him out on the smooth floor of the ritual chamber and stroked his hands down the human’s sides, then pulled his thighs apart to settle between them. Ichigo hissed and arched as they ground together, then grabbed their cocks in one hand and started an easy rhythm that still made them both gasp.

The warmth was growing hotter, spreading further, starting to become painful. The witch hissed and started to fight against it, before Shiro distracted him again with another ravenous kiss. Ichigo bit back and writhed enticingly against the demon, who growled ferally. He snarled back, then started to fight, but Shiro’s greater power won out.

The Change was spreading faster than he had anticipated, and though Ichigo was fighting it, he was also taking to the altered soul-state like a duck to water. **“Quick and dirty it is, then,”** the demon murmured, and gave the witch only a perfunctory stretch before shoving in. The witch screamed and clutched at him, nails scrabbling for purchase on his smooth back, but he stayed hard.

The demon started to thrust – to _rut_ , really; quick and dirty, like he said. Ichigo only demanded more, harder and faster and more pleasure. **“I almost envy you,”** Shiro purred, forcing the witch to lie back and hiking one of his legs up over a shoulder, **“Of all our Changes, this one is always the most… _intense._ I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”**

Ichigo arched under him with a gasping cry. The burn was changing – or perhaps it was just how he felt it. The pain was turning to spine-melting pleasure, compounding on top of Shiro’s deep thrusts to make his mind go blank of everything except the bliss. More cries left him, but he didn’t hear them. Just when he thought it couldn’t possibly get any better, it did, and kept doing so.

And then it peaked, and snapped, fire and ice roaring through his veins, agony and ecstasy running rampant through his nerves. Shiro was right behind him, snarling as the soon-to-be demon tightened around him, but he pushed through the aftershocks to pin Ichigo to the floor of the ritual chamber as he started to thrash, the energy he had implanted now rushing freely through him.

Though it increased his power, he still wasn’t quite up to matching the elder demon’s strength; Shiro held him down as he writhed and Changed, white sludge bubbling up out of his mouth and spreading over his face to form his mask. It looked identical to Shiro’s but with inverted colors, with more tattooed lines spreading down over his chest and shoulders. The lines made his skin look paler – no, wait, he _was_ getting paler, his skin turning white. His nails grew into claws and scored the floor. Just when he seemed ready to start ripping himself apart – it ended, and he went still.

The elder demon held on a moment longer, then released him, though he remained where he was, still knotted with the other. The Change had caused some interesting sensations, but it was too soon for even a demon of his caliber to get hard again. His knot deflated eventually and he withdrew, but Ichigo remained unconscious – a sign that his human mind was successfully working to shield itself from the influence of his new demonic powers. Shiro remembered how he had been after his change; even with his prior experience, he had gone a little crazy under the influence before he learned to control them, instead of them controlling him.

Sometimes others never did.

After an hour, the elder demon got tired of sitting on the hard stone floor, and carried the newborn to his chambers and laid him out on the bed.

It took hours for him to wake. Shiro was researching something to use against a certain _trio_ of _traitorous hunters_ , who came to Hell to recruit an army, when he heard Ichigo’s breathing change. He marked his page.

Ichigo sighed and stirred, peering around before noticing his new mask, complete with horns. **“Gah! Shiro!”**

The elder burst out laughing. He set his book aside, still chuckling, and turned to face the newborn, playfully jousting with their horns for a moment before answering the unspoken question. **“I used my power to turn you. It’s not surprising that you mimicked me in more ways than one. Although you’ve got a bit more color than I do.”** He tugged pointedly on one of the other’s long orange locks.

**“What the _fuck!_ ”**

**“And I’m glad to see that you’ve retained so much of your humanity,”** Shiro continued gleefully, **“I would have _hated_ for you to become boring like the others.”** He waved vaguely towards the lake of fire beyond his windows.

Ichigo quickly realized that the other was right. He still felt like himself, still cared about his family and friends, still wanted the best for their son – was still half in love with the demon who’d held his life and heart and soul in his hands, and not crushed him. But now there was an undercurrent of _violence_ in him, a _:lust-for-blood:_ , that called for him to protect his precious people by absolutely destroying their enemies, dragging them into Hell’s deepest pits and putting the fear of God into them.

**“How is this possible?”**

**“It’s because of the way it happened.”**

Ichigo blinked. **“The sex?”**

 **“That’s part of it.”** Shiro tightened the hand in the former witch’s hair. **“You were out of it, Ichi. Like, _seriously_ out. All your defenses were down… so the power didn’t have to _break you_ , in order to Change you, like it usually does.”**

**“If I had fought…?”**

**“Then when it finished, you’d have been a demon – in _every_ sense of the word. Nothing left of _you_ but your name.”**

**“I’m glad that didn’t happen.”**

**“So am I.”**

**“You’re just saying that ‘cause you want to fuck me again,”** Ichigo growled, but wrapped his legs around Shiro’s hips anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the visual of what Ichigo's soul looks like, think "angel Grace" from _Supernatural_. Also, kudos to those who catch the teeny tiny reference to _Skyrim_!


End file.
